The Duelist
by BathshebaRocks
Summary: An Age of Eric Contest entry: The city of Bath in Georgian times provides Eric Northman with all the  opportunities for womanising and gambling that he could desire.  But his arrogance makes him a powerful enemy which puts his very existence at risk.


**The Age of Eric Contest**

Title: The Duelist

Pen Name: BathshebaRocks.

Beta: VampLover1

Time Period: Georgian England: The city of Bath in the early years of the nineteenth century

Characters: Eric Northman, Pamela Ravenscroft, and historical and imaginary characters from the period.

Disclaimer: Eric and Pam are the sole property of Charlaine Harris

The grand terrace of houses was built high on one of the seven hills that surrounded the city. Pamela and I had taken a property there. Its location on the edge of the city allowed us some freedom to come and go, out of view of prying eyes. The dark vaults, which ran underneath the street itself, provided us with the daytime sanctuary we required.

From its elevated position I was well placed to survey the scene below me. The city was a match for ancient Rome, people said, in its wealth, its culture and even its geography. In my experience though, the only activity for which Bath could truly be called a match to that ancient empire was in its sin and debauchery.

True, you would not know this if you only saw the surface. The facades of fine new town houses could be admired all around, their warm stone glowing in the bright moonlight. Down in the city, runners with lanterns lit up the streets as the fashionable crowd left the Assembly Rooms and the Pump Rooms in their fine carriages. The air was thick with voices: shouts of anger from those who had lost at the tables; whispers of lust and secret assignations.

I knew the truth about the city, though. You did not have to search far to find its dark side. It was there in every alley and under every archway. Orphaned children begged for coppers. Limbless soldiers, returned from the Napoleonic wars, sought sympathy from those who had grown rich on the backs of their sacrifice. Women who had once been beautiful and desired now huddled in rags, offering their pathetic bodies for the price of a hot meal.

Tonight, every detail seemed fresh to me as I faced what might possibly be my last night on earth. The risk of final death had a powerful effect, heightening all of my senses. I could never spend too long in one place, but my few seasons in the city of Bath had been both entertaining and stimulating. I had known that I would eventually have to move on, but I had not expected it to happen in this fashion. In a few hours the moon would be waning, and the approach of dawn would call me to my fate.

I had spent my time feasting on all of the delights the city had to offer. I had become, perhaps, too familiar at the card tables and in the whore-houses. Pamela had cautioned me against arrogance, but I had failed to listen.

I would not spend my last hours in regrets; instead, I turned my mind to the happier times I had spent in the city.

I imagined that I could pick out one particular street, quiet and discreet, nestling in the shadow of the Abbey. Mrs. Annie Sheppard's establishment was known as the most magnificent in all of Bath. Its fine town-house exterior gave little clue as to what really went on behind those windows.

oooOOOooo

"Mr. Northman, do come in, I have been expecting you." Her voice was still seductive, but the passing of time had added an imperious tone. "I have a little treat for you," she teased.

Annie's little treats were generally for her benefit more than mine. She liked me to spend time with new girls when they joined her establishment. She said that I relaxed them and helped to prepare them for their new life.

Naturally, I was not allowed the full pleasure of their company. The gentlemen of Bath would pay a high price for the maidenhead of a pretty girl. I could match any man in fortune, but not in status, and status was what Annie craved. Nothing could give her greater pleasure that the attendance of a Duke or an Earl at her soirees. Her ultimate goal though was to entice the greatest man in the land.

Status is everything, whatever one's position in life. The Prince of Wales was an occasional visitor to the city. To count him amongst her clientele would confirm her position as Mistress of the most superior brothel in the city. A virginal young girl would be the ideal bait.

The girl had been allocated the finest bedroom. Situated on the first floor, its high ceilings and fine plasterwork provided the perfect background for the silk furnishings and the elaborately carved bed. It was on that bed that I took up my position, waiting for the girl to be brought in.

"Molly, say hello to Mr. Northman."

The girl curtseyed, trying to hide her interest behind a modest blush and downcast eyes.

"Mr. Northman will explain your duties to you. I have a very fine gentleman coming to visit you tonight, so pay attention to what he tells you."

She was a healthy looking girl, with the glowing skin of one who lived in the country. She would acclimate well to the life ahead of her. Country girls were strong and adaptable whilst girls from the city were weak and ill-nourished, often prone to fevers or the dreadful fate of consumption.

Her hair was golden and her eyes the brightest blue.

Annie undid the laces of the girl's dress, leaving her standing in just a corset and white stockings. She wore no chemise and her well-formed bosom was exposed to my gaze. She did not need her stays to achieve perfection in her figure; her waist was tiny, flaring out pleasingly to shapely hips. I had to own that she was truly a delightful creature. I had a strict rule never to become attached to humans, but I knew instantly that this girl would be a test of my resolve.

"Do you want to learn how to please a man?" I asked her.

The girl nodded. "I want to make my fortune, sir, and this is the best opportunity available to me."

"First, you must allow him to touch you without flinching. "

She stepped forward, allowing me to run my hands down her back and over her firm behind. She trembled just a little as my fingers grazed the inside of her thighs, finally reaching that thatch of golden curls which hid her innocent charms. She closed her eyes and sighed as I stroked her most private parts. Her warm breath brushed my cheek. Truly, the Prince was most fortunate to be the first to taste this beautiful creature.

I stood her at arms length and was pleased to see a look of disappointment cross her face as we broke contact.

"How long have you been in the city?"

"Just a few days, sir. My grandmother was determined to marry me off, but I will not be a farmer's wife."

"So you think you can find a better life here?"

"I am sure of it. There are few choices for a girl in my position.. The girls say that Mrs. Sheppard is a fair mistress, and provided I do my best I will be rewarded. Besides, she has already shown me the alternative."

"Ah, yes, the walk of shame."

I smiled. It was Annie's habit to take her new girls to promenade through the Parade Pleasure Gardens. It was a cruel but necessary initiation into their new lives. They would be the objects of derision for the fashionable ladies, who spent the afternoon strolling to and fro, showing off their new gowns and spreading the latest gossip. Annie's girls had to learn to hold their heads high and ignore the cutting stares.

Besides, as Annie would remind them, most of these women's husbands would come to them to take their pleasure, sooner or later.

At the far end of the gardens, a row of arches led to the Pultney Bridge. Under these arches, hidden from view, one or two pathetic creatures plied their trade. Elizabeth Nelson had once been regarded as the finest beauty in the whole city. She had been Annie's most popular girl and commanded the highest price. A weakness for fine clothes and a fatal addiction to gin had been her ruin. She was reduced now to servicing the common soldiers for a few pennies. It was a truly dreadful fate and acted as a warning to all of the new girls.

"Sir, may I ask you something?"

I motioned for her to continue.

"I have never properly kissed a man before. Would you be willing to show me how?"

I took her into my arms, running my fingers through her golden hair, which had not yet been dressed for the evening. Gently I probed her lips with my tongue. She opened to me readily. I could feel her heart beating and her ample chest rise and fall more heavily. She tasted sweet and smelled of sunshine and meadow flowers. Her skin was soft, not yet made coarse by years of hard work.

I pulled away. The taste of her was intoxicating; I wanted more, I wanted to be the one to have the first taste. Alas, that was not possible. The best I could hope for was another man's leavings.

"I think that is quite enough," Annie interrupted. "Now, Molly, we will bathe you and dress your hair, in readiness for your visitor. As for you, Mr. Northman, Sophia and Katherine have been arguing over your favours all week. You really must choose one of them. Let us repair to the Salon."

I anticipated a pleasant evening with Katherine. She was a fine actress, as familiar on the stage of the Theatre Royal as in the bedrooms of the North Parade Buildings. She took few lovers now, but I was one of those she favoured. Sophia's displeasure was clear for all to see as I beckoned to Katherine and she curtsied low in front of me.

"One day I will make him pay for this," Sophia whispered to her nearest companion, unaware that I would be able to hear every word. "How dare he humiliate me. I will have my revenge, and it will be sweet."

"Do you not find there is something strange about him?" her companion retorted. "I have heard girls say that they awake after a night in his company with no memory of what has passed between them. Sometimes the sheets are stained with blood."

"My dear Amelia, that is just idle gossip. I can assure you that if he were ever intimate with you, it is not something you would ever forget." Sophia turned to give me a withering scowl before leaving the room.

Kate was most attentive, and I even managed to feed a little from her, using my glamour to ensure she had no memory of it. Sated as I was, I found myself thinking of the new girl. A word with the maid confirmed that her visitor had left. Quietly I let myself into her room.

Molly was lying curled up tightly on the bed. Sitting myself down beside her I gently stroked her hair. She raised her head to look at me, holding her lips in a tight line. I could tell she was struggling to stop herself from crying.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head, but her soft, blue eyes told a different story.

Gently I lifted the sheet. Her back was covered with ugly red weals.

"It is nothing; besides, he paid me well." She gestured towards the dresser, where five guineas lay beside her washing bowl.

"Let me heal you." I moved her gently so she lay on her stomach and licked her wounds clean. The taste of her was intoxicating; although she had lost her virginity that night, her blood was not yet fully corrupted and still had the taste of innocence.

"What are you doing, Sir?"

"I am cleansing your wounds. Does it cause you discomfort?"

"Not at all, but it seems most strange."

I turned her in my arms and gently lifted her head to meet mine. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in anticipation of my kiss. I looked deeply into her eyes and murmured, "You will not remember anything of this."

To my surprise she responded to my words: "I am sure I will, Sir, but I will never divulge it to a soul."

I silenced any further comment with a long, slow kiss. It had been many centuries since I had met anyone whose memories I was unable to erase. I would need to be more careful with her.

"What will you spend your money on?" I asked, aiming to lighten the atmosphere. "A new bonnet and some fine muslins, I'll wager."

"Well, you would lose your money then, sir. I intend to save my earnings most carefully. If I could afford a luxury I think it would be Dr. Johnson's _Dictionary_."

I couldn't hold back a laugh, which earned me an angry glare. "That is a very strange choice," I commented.

"I intend to better myself. I can read and write, you know. I would like to learn a new word each day, so that I can aspire to converse in polite society."

She would need to lose the sound of the country from her voice to be accepted in any society, but that was not impossible if she was determined. Something about the set of her face told me that she was.

"You did well tonight, my dear. He has asked for you again." Annie's entrance had been so silent that neither of us had heard her.

"How could you let someone do that to her, especially on her first night?" I demanded of Annie. I was not normally solicitous towards the welfare of the girls, but something about Molly had touched me.

"You know very well, Northman, there are some clients one does not say 'no' to, particularly if you wish to maintain your livelihood."

"So the Prince in town, is he?"

"Yes, visiting dear Mama, who is once again on her deathbed," Annie sneered.

The Prince of Wales normally favoured the seaside resort of Brighton as the location for his baser pleasures. The presence of his ailing mother in Bath did give him occasion to visit our city. But his filial duties did not present a barrier to enjoying the many delights on offer.

The Prince was known for his generosity, and as a result the girls were willing to overlook his taste for the English vice, and suffer the indignity of attempting to service his increasingly corpulent frame. In the weeks that followed I found myself attending more frequently on Molly. Something about her drew me back, late in the evening when her paying customers had left.

At first I satisfied myself with giving her pleasure with my hands and my tongue. By our third night together I could stand it no longer. Her soft moans of delight aroused a passion within me which could not be controlled. I knew I was showing a hint of fang as I lowered my mouth to suckle on those perfect breasts. A few drops of blood ran down as I grazed that soft skin. I sucked them eagerly, gently licking to close the wound. My darling girl was so enraptured with pleasure that she did not notice the intrusion.

I pushed her down roughly beneath me. She gasped, realizing my intention but put up no resistance as I parted her legs. I sensed that she felt some pain as I entered her, but she did not cry out. Indeed, she wrapped her legs around me as if to urge me deeper. Her tiny hands tangled in my hair as she pulled me down into a passionate kiss.

"Look at me, my darling," I said, pushing myself back onto my knees and lifting her hips to enter her as deeply as I could. My fingers found that most sensitive spot, and I knew she would soon find sweet release.

"Eric," she cried out, as the heat of passion coursed through her body.

It was the first time she had called me by my name.

I held her for several minutes as she trembled with spent desire. It was many centuries since I had felt such contentment. My child Pamela was passionate, it was true, but that was a wild, animal attraction, quite different from the feelings I now had to own. Perhaps I should turn her. I contemplated that for a moment. Perhaps if I did not already have responsibilities I would have done so. A new child is so demanding: their control so weak; their hunger so great. I could not do justice to Molly, it would not be fair.

Molly's sweet voice interrupted my thoughts. "The Prince will be furious if he finds out that you have been my first true lover."

"Then you must ensure that he does not find out. I will show you an accomplishment which will heighten his pleasure. It was much practised at the French court, but few English girls have this skill. You should keep it your little secret."

Her eyes widened with surprise as she realized what I was going to ask her to undertake. For a novice she proved to be most skilled, and I had no doubt that it would add greatly to her popularity.

I thought I heard the rustle of petticoats outside the door but dismissed it as unimportant. It was no doubt one of the maids going about her business.

"You should not pay me so much attention, Sir. I have heard the other girls whispering about you. They say you must use magic to get what you want."

"That is ridiculous, who believes in magic nowadays?"

"It would surprise you. In my village witches still get the blame for milk turned sour or a lame animal. We are all still country girls at heart."

"You should not be concerned about me. There is nothing that these girls can do to hurt me, however much they may desire it."

oooOOOooo

Attendance at the Assembly Rooms was an essential ritual for those members of polite society residing in the city. The formality was not to my taste, but Pamela insisted that I escort her. As my 'sister,' she was able to mix freely and accept the many requests for a place on her dance card. She was a great beauty and a fine dancer, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Truly, she could have won the heart of a Duke or an Earl; even a Prince would not be beyond her reach.

My intervention in her life had given her these opportunities and taken them away at the same time.

On most evenings I found something to interest me. On that particular night however, the crowd was decidedly thin. The season was drawing to a close, and the most fashionable families had returned to London. It appeared that the only ones who remained in town were silly young girls, chasing after the officers and shrieking across the card table.

Only one woman stood out to me. Her dress distinguished her from the crowd; it was simple and inexpensive. I supposed her to be the daughter of a clergyman, or perhaps a solicitor who had fallen on hard times. She could certainly not be called a great beauty, but her expression suggested a lively wit.

She was surveying the room with interest, her glance falling on me more than once. She did not seem the type to be interested in the pleasures of the flesh. A challenge, I thought to myself. I did so relish a challenge.

"You have exceptionally fine eyes, Miss…" I said as I approached her.

She did not answer my unspoken question but instead responded with a challenge of her own.

"And you have an exceptionally smooth tongue, Mr. Northman. Please do not delude yourself. I am well aware of your reputation, as is every young lady in the city. I also know that a lady as plain and poor as myself is unlikely to be of interest to you."

"You do yourself a disservice, Miss. Simplicity is a virtue, and you most certainly are not plain. Besides, intelligence is, in my opinion, a much under-rated virtue in young ladies today."

She cast her eyes downward in a gesture that should have been demure, but her expression was amused and challenging.

"I am a student of character. When I find one which interests me, I keep a record of it," she said.

"And what do you deduce of my character?"

"That you are extremely arrogant and proud." She was smiling, despite the harshness of her words. "You think that no woman in the room is good enough to meet your high standards."

"I think you may be correct in your assumptions. Some of the ladies present are tolerable, but there is certainly no-one present tonight who is sufficiently interesting to tempt me."

"Tolerable," she repeated, laughing. "That is very fine, I shall remember that."

Our attention was drawn to a particular young lady who appeared to surpass all her companions for her foolishness of character and the volume of her shrieks.

"Miss Lydia Bennett," my companion whispered, conspiratorially. "It is said she will come to a bad end. Her mother is dead, and her father is bankrupt and a drunkard. She has no brother to protect her, and harbors a fatal weakness for a fine red coat."

"Perhaps you could write an account of her character?"

She looked thoughtful. "Indeed, I think I have the perfect role for her." She gave me the most brilliant smile as she strolled away.

Pamela appeared at my side. "I am surprised at your interest in Miss Austen. She seems most unlikely to satisfy your tastes."

"You do not yet know everything about me, Pamela. I find that a woman's intellect can be as stimulating as that which lies between her legs."

Pamela raised her eyebrows, an arch expression on her face.

"So what does dear Jane have to offer you? For my part I would judge her very dull, although I have heard on good authority that she intends to write a novel. That would be scandalous, indeed."

"Her company is both witty and amusing. I intend to find out a great deal more about her, before the season is out."

"You may not get the opportunity. I have it on good authority that some of your female companions have been spreading evil stories about you. You should know the risks of spurning a woman by now; they will always find a way to take their revenge."

"Really?"

"Yes, they say you have cuckolded the Prince of Wales, and that it was you who took the maidenhood of his new favourite. It is also said," she continued, warming to her theme, "that you have used enchantments at the card table. You should take greater care, Eric; you have warned me often enough of the risks we run by mixing with humans. I am not yet ready to leave this city. There are still pleasures I wish to taste."

I pondered her words as we took to the dance floor. I had hoped to spend one or two more seasons here before we moved on. If Pam was correct in her supposition, I might not get the chance. I had no doubt it had been Katherine and Sophia who were the source of these tales. Since I had made Mollie my sole choice, they had made common cause with each other, stoking each other's anger into a raging fire.

I soon identified the object of Pamela's interest. He was exceptionally handsome, with a fine figure and thick black hair. However, with a fortune of over sixty thousand pounds a year, his mother kept him on a very tight leash, quite aware of his vulnerability to unscrupulous fortune hunters. Poor Pamela. She had no interest in his fortune, only in his blood, but this seemed out of her grasp. She was still young and found it difficult to control her appetite, but the blood of an aristocrat held a most powerful fascination for her.

"You will have to choose an easier victim, my dear." I indicated a well-known young rake, who was sitting languidly at the edge of the room surveying the scene. His perversions were so well known that no respectable lady would even dance with him. He and Pamela most certainly deserved each other.

She gave me a knowing smile as she crossed the room towards him. His expression indicated that he expected an easy conquest. He would soon find out how wrong he was.

Eventually, the time came for the ladies to leave. On most evenings, gentlemen without a wife or sister to escort home would gravitate to the card tables.

It is said that a fool and his money are soon parted, and the city had plenty of fools and plenty of money. The tables had been good to me, often allowing me to add to my considerable fortune. I did not need to cheat or use any unfair advantage. Unlike most of the gentlemen, my brain was not fuddled with port wine or whiskey. I relied only on my formidable powers of concentration and memory.

Pamela's warning this evening was not the first time she had alerted me to the dangers of an arrogant stance. I knew that she had heard complaints from her human lovers - the accusations of cheating, or worse, of sorcery. I would force myself to lose at least some hands each evening. Even though I ensured that the financial penalty was small, it rankled with me to have to submit to a lesser man.

Tonight, though, the stakes were far too high for me to resist. The presence of the Prince of Wales attracted the richest and the most reckless of gamblers. Some were drawn by the lure of the tables, but more by the prospect of gaining some social advantage through his patronage.

I had picked my target for the evening carefully: a young man who had recently inherited a fine estate. He boasted the perfect combination of arrogance, stupidity, and a weakness for liquor.

I was surprised when the Prince joined our table. He normally preferred the company of his own set and was never known to mix with the ordinary sort.

"Mr. Northman."

I bowed my head in response.

"I believe we have something in common."

"That seems unlikely, Your Highness."

"Perhaps I should say 'someone' instead. We share a mutual acquaintance."

I was left in no doubt from the expression on his face that he was referring to Molly, nor that he took pleasure in sharing her favours with a commoner. Pam was right that the ladies had been gossiping.

The Prince would not take kindly to losing; this was well known. I threw away my first two hands cheaply so as not to incur his displeasure. By the third hand, however, the pile of gold and promissory notes on the table overcame my better judgment. I was dealt a good hand and played it to full advantage.

"You cheat, Sir." The Prince's voice was cold with fury as I claimed my winnings, intending to leave the table.

"I most assuredly do not. Now if you will excuse me, I have some urgent matters to attend to."

That only infuriated him further. The room fell silent as he raised his voice: "You think to make a fool of me, stealing my money and stealing my women. I will not have it, Sir. Now, who will stand as my champion against this rogue?"

Several men stood to attention, seeking to catch his eye. I knew immediately whom he would choose. The Marquis of Hastings was reputed to be England's finest swordsman and an excellent shot.

"I challenge you to defend your honour, Sir. Tomorrow, two hours before the dawn, on the Lansdown."

It was time to begin my final journey. My horse sensed my reluctance as I turned his head and began the ride up towards the appointed meeting place. The half-built tower of William Beckford's folly provided me with a landmark to my destination.

I had said goodbye to my dear Molly. She was a sweet child, and I would miss her. I had spent several hours with her, paying good money for the privilege.

Just a few weeks had changed her from a simple country girl into a young woman of some experience. It had not yet ruined her sweetness of character, and I hoped that it never would.

Her hands, surprisingly soft for one of her breeding, knew how to caress a man. I would wager that she could even coax a reaction from the Prince; no doubt that was why he paid her so well.

"You are leaving me," she said quietly. "I will never see you again."

"I do have to leave the city, it is true, and it is possible we will not meet again. I intend to leave you something to remember me by, my darling Molly."

"You should know that Molly is not my real name," she admitted to me. "I took it to avoid detection, should my family decide to search for me. My grandmother always said to me, when I would not attend to my chores, that I would end up in a Molly House."

Her eyes widened with surprise as I explained what really took place in such an establishment. "Is such a thing really possible?"

"Oh, yes," I answered with a knowing wink, "most assuredly."

I took my pleasure with her slowly and gently that final night. Every kiss, every touch, would show her that despite my nature I was truly able to care for her.

"My real name is Susanna," she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep.

I watched her for a while before leaving. I laid a note on her pillow, along with one thousand guineas.

'_My dearest Molly, _(for she would always be Molly to me_)_

_I know I can trust you to use this wisely. Make it your dowry, but please choose a sensible young man. A respectable Trade is not so bad a thing and will provide you with the comforts which you deserve. Bear him some children, taking your lovers where you will._

_I shall never forget you._

-E-

My thoughts turned to one final woman. My child Pamela.

The thought of leaving her behind was my greatest regret. She was so young, and she had so much to learn yet. Without my guidance she would be vulnerable. I had already made financial provision for her. When she rose tomorrow, she would learn the details. I had not warned her of what might happen to me, though. She was impulsive and wild; she would take some foolish action and risk herself. I could not tolerate that.

Pamela would not be happy with the arrangements I had made for her, but it was the only way I could guarantee her safety. She would need to live with others of our kind.

The citizens of Bath would have been horrified to discover what manner of creature was nesting in the underground tunnels which ran beneath the northern hills of the city. The caves, hollowed out by the relentless demand for stone to build the fashionable new terraces, were as tall as the Abbey. They were a forbidding environment, damp and gloomy.

My fellow creatures shunned all contact with humans, except to seize those upon whom they needed to feed. I despised their wretched and brutal existence. What was the purpose of an eternal life if not to enjoy the pleasures it had to offer?

For their part, they thought me mad, for risking exposure to the human world as I did. From time to time I would seek them out, when I needed to feed and was unable to find a suitable donor. They would keep my child safe, teach her our ways, feed and sustain her until she could live safely amongst humans.

The moon was still bright, although low in the sky, as I approached the appointed place, a clearing in the woods. I could see the carriage with its fine crest, half hidden in the trees. The Prince's champion was waiting for me in the clearing.

"You have no second, Sir."

"I prefer to stand up alone."

"Unconventional, but so be it. Pistols or rapiers, the choice is yours."

I had been considering this for some time. The rapier rewarded the skill of the combatant. A gentleman would go for a flesh wound and avoid the heart. The pistol, on the other hand, was less easy to control.

I could not be sure they would offer me the courtesy due a gentleman; besides, however fine my opponent, I had several centuries of practice to call upon. I could hide my skill at cards, but it would be impossible to hide this skill from them. Besides, with only two hours until the dawn, I could not afford any delay.

"Pistols."

We followed the appointed ritual, pacing out the distance between us, before turning to face each other and raising our weapons to fire.

Several men stepped forward from amongst the trees, confirming my suspicion that we were not alone. In the distance I fancied I could see lights and hear voices.

I knew I could easily wound or kill my opponent if I chose, but I knew with equal certainty that his companions would be avenged against me. Clearly we were no longer playing by the accepted rules. My only choice was to take the risk of feigning death in the hope that this would satisfy them.

The pain as his bullet burnt through my chest was agonizing. I had been correct in my assumption. He was not going for the flesh wound; his shot was intended to kill. It was only my quick movement at the last moment that ensured the bullet avoided my heart.

The wound, though deep, would heal quickly. I had to quit that place before it did. Would they allow me to crawl off into the trees and presume me dead? I moaned loudly, "I am dying."

The Marquis and his second stood over me, their faces contorted into ugly sneers. Turning my head I could make out the figures of more men carrying torches as they approached the clearing where I lay. They had dogs with them, barking loudly as they pulled at the chains which held them.

"So, the foreign adventurer meets his match at last. You will be no loss to our society, Mr. Northman."

"He is a demon, we should burn him!" cried his companion.

"Yes, burn him," a general hue and cry arose as the men came nearer.

I heard the rustle of movement in the trees behind me. Pam ran forward, two rapiers in her hands. She threw one to me. I seized it as I jumped to my feet in a single movement.

"He is the devil," a man shouted, as the men with torches stepped forward.

"And she is a witch," cried another. "Burn them both!"

Pamela snapped her fingers and my horse cantered out from behind the trees where it had been tethered. I mounted in one leap, pulling her up behind me.

"We must go to ground!" I shouted. "It will be dawn within the hour."

"We can be in the Port of Bristol before the sunrise. It is our only hope," Pamela called back as we raced off across the open fields. "If we stop now, the dogs will track us down."

We covered the distance to the dockside in a scant half hour, leaving our pursuers far behind.

"You should not have come after me, Pamela, it was too dangerous."

"Did you really think you could leave me behind? You and I are bound together for eternity. Besides, your Molly sought me out to warn me of the conspiracy. She had heard the other girls talking."

There were several ships being made ready for the morning tide. I could see a large group of men, women and children waiting to board one of them. Pamela and I exchanged a smile. We were both calculating whether there was sufficient sustenance to satisfy our needs during such a long journey.

"Where do you think we are bound?"

"One of the colonies, I would judge, from the sorry appearance of our companions."

"Let us hope there is some semblance of civilization there."

"I am sure that we will be able to find a dressmaker skilled enough to meet your high standards, my dear. Besides, wherever we find ourselves, there are certain to be men who can be parted from their money and women who can be parted from their blood."

"Come then, we must not delay any longer, Eric. We need to find a safe resting place aboard."

I banished any regrets at leaving. The world held so many new possibilities, and it was my intention to relish them all.

_Authors Note: The English Vice referred to in this story was flagellation. It was apparently popular in the eighteenth century with brothels dedicated to the practice. Having the Prince of Wales indulge is a figment of my imagination._

_A Molly House was the term for a male brothel. There were several in London, the most famous being Mother Clapp's._

_I have used UK rather than US English spelling in this story as it is set in England._


End file.
